


A Moment of Peace (and Silliness)

by danceswithhamsters01



Series: Reddit Prompts [50]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Silly, Sweet Zevran Arainai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 04:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18542464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: Based on a prompt from r/dragonageWarden-Commander Sevarra Amell is taking a moment to prepare before holding court in Vigil's Keep: one of her least favorite things. Zevran's determined to lighten the mood.





	A Moment of Peace (and Silliness)

_**Prompt 5:** Reflections in glass, darting shadows, candlelight, a door closing_

 

The woman regarded her reflection in the vanity’s mirror, pressing her lips together to spread the coloring from one lip to the other. Mulberry-tinted lips curved upward in an approving smile. The soft click of a door closing was the only thing that announced the arrival of her company. She did not turn from her seat before the mirror as she steadily applied a shimmering silver powder to her eyelids. A tiny smirk played at her lips. _Let him have his fun,_ she thought to herself.

 

A darting shadow and the soft pat of something landing on the rug teased the Commander’s hearing as she resolutely remained seated at her vanity, running a tortoise-shell comb through her long, dark mane. Fang roused his sleepy bulk from in front of the hearth and padded over to sniff at the strange circular thing that’d landed on the rug.

 

_Snuff-snuff-snuffle. Snort. Crunch, crunch, crunch._

 

Well, apparently whatever had landed on the rug was deemed edible. By mabari standards, anyways. He licked his chops and wagged his stub of a tail, ears perked up. Another soft pat reached her ears as another strange circular object landed on the rug several feet away from the first one. Fang eagerly closed the distance and inspected the mysterious delicacy.

 

_Snuff! Snort! Chomp! Crunch, crunch!_

 

The effort it took to keep her face neutral was nearly painful to Sevarra. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting into a fit of giggles. Thank the Maker she’d already applied her cosmetics; there was no way she’d be able to draw a straight line at the moment! She slowly began braiding a section of hair, attempting to still seem oblivious to what was going on.

 

Two more treats landed on the rug and were devoured before she finished one braid and began on the next. The candlelight flickered ever so slightly as a masculine musical voice whispered into her ear.

 

“Allow me.”

 

She knew he was smiling without having to look up at him or into the mirror, his voice readily gave it away. A strong but gentle hand took the comb from her. The mage let her eyes drift shut as a contented hum escaped her.

 

“Far be it from me to deny you your fun, my love,” she chuckled.

 

Long, slow strokes went from root to tip before he began weaving a third braid that incorporated the first two into it.

 

“You say that now, but here you are getting ready to do your least favorite task, my dear. You could let the seneschal do this, after all,” he said with a touch of mirth.

 

“I could, but he’d get it wrong,” she replied.

 

He answered with a snort as he reached for a small bit of black string to tie off his handiwork.

 

“Well, he would, let’s be honest. He lets the nobility get away with more than they ought to. That kind of thing makes them bold, makes them stupid. And when they get bold and stupid, ordinary people get hurt. And when _my_ ordinary people get hurt, I get angry. Besides, I’ve pushed this back, what – two or three? – times already.”

 

“Of that, I am well aware,” he smirked.

 

“Don’t stand there and pretend you didn’t like my quick thinking the last time I hid from the seneschal, Zevran,” she said with a playful twinkle in her eye.

 

A deep belly laugh rang out. “Oh, I did _quite_ enjoy that, mi querida. Alas, the vanity is nowhere near as large as your desk and I fear you’d be easily seen underneath it.” He waggled his brows at their reflections in the mirror’s glass.

 

She gave a playful pout. “Sadly true. Perhaps after holding court is done with…?”

 

“Minx,” he smirked, offering her a hand up. He did nothing to disguise how he drank her in with his eyes. “A pity you do not dress like this more often.”

 

“Yes, well, it’s ever so annoying to get bits of exploded genlock out of silk,” she replied with mock-seriousness.

 

More laughter. _Maker, I’ll never get tired of that laugh,_ she thought with a smile as she took his offered arm.

 

The Lady and Lord left their quarters, bound for the throne room two floors below with their war hound trailing behind.


End file.
